


Incinerate

by servecobwebheadaches



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, F/M, Helena - Freeform, M/M, Memories, Recreational Drug Use, Ryden, Sad, Stand Alone, fever era, fluff at times, mentioned anxiety attack, my chemical romance - Freeform, pretty odd era, suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:06:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servecobwebheadaches/pseuds/servecobwebheadaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon will sing, remember, and ultimately break down, but it won't change anything about his broken love with Ryan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incinerate

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Helena by My Chemical Romance. This is really, really sad, just a warning.

The words were carefully measured out, and Brendon thought he knew exactly what he was doing.  Acoustic sessions were typically easy and perfectly planned out by _Ryan_ , but Brendon was conflicted between doing his job as it was meant to be and knowing that it hardly mattered anymore.  Brendon looked down at his guitar in between songs, keeping his mouth shut.   _Two songs left_.  He didn't dare cast a glance at Ryan, as tempting as it was, and habitual as it was.   _Things Have Changed_ and _I Write Sins_.  That was it.  Yes, Brendon knew quite exactly what he was going to do.

He didn't have to think about it, through the first verse and chorus.  He knew at this point that he would screw up if he remained too focused.  " _I wanna go where everyone goes_ ," almost there, " _I wanna know what everyone knows_ ," closer, " _I wanna go where everyone feels the same_."  And now it was time to stray from Ryan's plan.  " _I never said I'd leave_ Seattle, _I never said I'd leave this town . . ._ "  Brendon closed his eyes, imagining the slight grimace on Ryan's face at the replacement of words.  He still didn't look.  " _. . . Everybody gets there and everybody—gets off to Ryan Ross!_ "  He allowed himself a big smile and an intentional stare at Ryan, whose jaw was slackened as he looked back at Brendon.  Ryan's smile was forced, and he looked away from Brendon as soon as he could.

The band finished the rest of their set, and Brendon couldn't help but at least hope Ryan would acknowledge what he had done.  But when the band made their way into the backroom and offstage, Ryan glared at Brendon.  "What the fuck was that, Urie?" He nearly yelled.

_Urie_.

Brendon flinched, far from being used to Ryan addressing him by his last name.  Spencer and Jon froze, staring at the scene in front of them.  "Did it throw you off, Ross?" Brendon said, acting like he didn't care, like he wasn't hurt.  Ryan rolled his eyes.

"I'm still in the band.  We've got to do things right, and not screw things up.  Don't do that again."

Brendon's eyes cast downwards for a split second, before regaining his confident act.  "Will it matter if I don't?" He defied.

"Brendon—" Spencer started.

"They're my songs, and you're getting paid to sing them.  It's that simple," Ryan shrugged.

"Loosen up a bit, god.  It's just as much my band as it is yours, at this point."  Brendon turned around just so he didn't have to see Ryan's face, making himself look busy cleaning up.

"Whatever," Ryan sighed.  "This is why I'm leaving."  He picked up his guitar and bag, walking out of the room.  Brendon startled when Ryan slammed the door.

"I'm going home," Brendon quietly announced to Spencer and Jon.  He met Spencer's eyes for a brief moment before walking out.  He made the act of closing the door—the opposite exit of Ryan—purposefully silent.

Spencer was torn between following either of the two, finally deciding on going after Ryan.

<<<<<>>>>>

True to his word, Brendon immediately went home.  He sat on the edge of his piano bench, playing a few random notes.  He didn't really even know what he was doing, but he didn't just want to lay around and mope about losing Ryan.

He wearily sighed and closed the lid of the piano.  Looking down, he fingered the buttons of his gray-brown vest.  The clothing all seemed distasteful, not his style.  It didn't match him, how he was feeling; bright colors and flowery patterns.  With a small frown on his face, he worked through his memory on why the hell he would ever choose to wear such things.  He himself was supposed to match the theme of the music because the theme of the music was supposed to be what matched him.  "It's not even my music," he muttered.  He did all of it for Ryan, willingly, and was realizing how disgusting it felt now.

Brendon looked back at the piano and slid the lid open again.  The piano seemed ugly, the ivory color of it felt dirty.  His left index fingernail scratched the middle C key, and he pressed the key down so softly that it didn't make a sound.  Letting go of it produced a dull thud, which seemed loud in the dead silent house.  He hardly looked at his fingers as he let them fall on a variety of keys, slamming down on them, the loudness giving a form of relief to the increasing tense silence.  Vaguely, he wondered if he could break the internal wood percussion of the instrument, but didn't really attempt to do so.

He wasn't sure why, but his fingers found their way to a certain position on the piano, a unique combination of notes, and started playing.  The song felt so old as he sang the words, and the memories that it brought back felt like a whole different life.

"Long ago . . . Just like a hearse, you die to get in again . . ."

Ryan taught him that song.  Ryan had loved My Chemical Romance more than anything else, besides maybe Brendon.   _Pete fucking Wentz from Fall Out Boy is coming to see their band the day after tomorrow.  They're buzzing with excitement; the band could get signed.  They've been practicing for the past week non stop.  None of them can listen to any more drums or guitar, and Brendon is starting to think his own voice sounds weird in his mouth.  That's how many times they've rehearsed.  Brendon is drinking his fourth Red Bull that day while Spencer and Brent are walking out the door to go grocery shopping.  Ryan is looking through a stack of sheet music, finds the few pages he's looking for, and sets them on the piano.  He sits on the piano bench and says, "Brendon, come here."  He taps the empty space next to him on the bench.  "I want to hear you sing this song."_

"We are," Brendon breathed, his voice somehow weakened, "so far from you."  He slipped into his memories again.

_Upon glancing at the notes of the song, Brendon starts to play the piano, not trying to sing on his first run through.  Ryan sits next to him, watching, fascinated by how fast Brendon picks up the music.  Brendon slows down, squinting at the notes, and stops.  "Where the hell do I put my fingers to play this?" He asks, and Ryan scoots closer to Brendon._

__

_"Here, like this," Ryan says, and he uses his own long fingers to place Brendon's hands on the correct positioning of notes._

__

_Brendon doesn't say a word, but he continues playing, determination to remain not embarrassed coursing through his actions._

"Burnin' on . . ."  Each note and syllable was elongated from the album version, specially for the piano version Ryan taught.  It was more melancholy than the original, and Ryan loved it that way.  Brendon wondered if he would notice if the house caught on fire before Spencer came home; he was completely lost in the music.

_"You're so easy to teach," Ryan says.  "You're so good at this._

__

_Brendon shrugs.  "It's weird singing your favorite song, Ryan."_

__

_"You make it sound insanely better," Ryan admits, and he means it._

__

_"Sing it with me," Brendon says, and Ryan does, with his bony hip still pressing into Brendon's side on the piano bench._

__

_Brendon feels an amount to satisfaction higher than anything he's ever felt before when their voices meet in the suddenly thick air around them._

__

" . . . Just like a match, you strike to incinerate . . ."  Brendon's fingers trembled over the keys as he almost missed the exact chord between the lyrics.  " . . . the lives, of everyone you know . . ."

_The four members of the band sit across from Pete, a day after they performed their three songs for him.  He didn't immediately reject them, so that is a good sign, but he isn't looking too cheerful when he sees the band the next day.  "I think I need to speak with you, Brendon, alone.  Just for a second," Pete says, and Brendon stands up with him.  Brendon's nervous, and Ryan is the only one who can tell from the way Brendon is drumming his fingers on the side of his leg.  Brendon and Pete step outside the room, closing the door behind them.  The other three can't hear a word they're saying.  Frozen and silent, they wait for Brendon to return to them._

__

_Ryan doesn't seem to even be worried._

__

_Pete opens the door, and Brendon rushes into the room ahead of him.  He looks paler than usual, to Ryan at least.  Pete nods grimly.  "I'll leave you guys alone for a few minutes," he says, and closes the door.  Brendon stays still for a couple seconds, waiting to make sure Pete is gone.  A huge smile breaks out on his face._

__

_"We've been signed!" Brendon shouts.  Ryan jumps up from his chair and practically flies to Brendon.  He throws his arms around Brendon's neck and kisses Brendon on the mouth.  Brendon is too shocked to react, yet he allows it to happen.  When Ryan pulls away, Brendon laughs with tears falling over his bright smile.  Ryan holds him while he cries.  Crying because he's in a band that's on a label and he's got Ryan, who Brendon thinks is all he needs right now._

Brendon didn't think he could ever convince himself that Ryan's lips weren't worth missing.  It had only been a week since Brendon had tasted them, but they seemed to linger due to how hopelessly gone they were.  "And what's the worst you take . . . Worst you take—"

_One week.  They have one week to finish recording their album, and the pressure is terrible.  Ryan and Brendon are in a screaming match, while everyone has fled from the room.  Between the two, Ryan is remaining calmer, while Brendon is having more anxiety—so they're yelling at each other over the volume of the verses on Lying is the Most Fun.  Brendon says it should be louder, while Ryan says softer._

__

_"Why don't you just sing it, then?  If I'm just gonna fuck it up . . .?" Brendon yells._

__

_Ryan raises an eyebrow.  Brendon runs his fingers through his hair.  "You're not fucking this up.  And you're singing is fine," Ryan says, monotonously.  Their eyes meet from across the room, and Brendon presses his lips together.  Ryan wearily looks at him, any and all anger gone.  Brendon walks across the room and envelopes his arms around Ryan._

__

_"I'm sorry," he mumbles into the curve of Ryan's neck.  Ryan hugs him back, eyes closed._

__

_"I know.  It's okay."_

__

_"It'll be quiet," Brendon decides.  "The chorus will have a better effect."_

__

_Ryan smiles into Brendon's dark hair.  "Thank you."_

__

_Brendon forces himself to trust Ryan.  Ryan always wins these types of fights, anyway._

__

_The other half of the band walks in to the sight Ryan and Brendon tangled around each other, and they know that everything is healed again._

__

"From every heart you break . . . Heart you break . . ."

_Jac just starts crying when she sees them curled up in the corner of the couch together at seven in the morning. Ryan is asleep, as far as Brendon knows.  Brendon is slowly waking up to the sound of muffled sobs.  The two are sharing a thin blanket, Ryan's face in Brendon's shoulder, Brendon's lips in Ryan's hair.  Ryan's elbows are digging into Brendon's waistline—Brendon's hands meet over Ryan's chest._

__

_Brendon's stomach drops when he comprehends that Ryan's girlfriend is looking at them and crying.  He harshly elbows Ryan in the chest before doing anything else, just to wake him up.  The second Ryan comes around and comprehends what's happening, he murmurs the word, "go," to Brendon.  Ryan gets up, and Brendon scrambles out of the room, off the tour bus.  He sits on the curb, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, wishing he could've gotten a jacket because it's really fucking cold right now._

__

_The sun is just starting to rise, and Brendon is exhausted, but some half-hearted nervousness is keeping him awake.  He realizes that, yeah, Jac knows some things now and she's going to break up with Ryan, which ultimately leads to Audrey leaving Brendon, but that's not what's really eating at him.  Ryan, Ryan is who Brendon is more worried about.  If Ryan would be hurt.  If Ryan would cry.  If Ryan would push Brendon away because of this._

__

_Brendon's heart sinks at the mere thought of it._

__

_Both Audrey and Jac storm out of the bus together, fresh makeup smearing with fresher tears.  Brendon, with his back being turned to the bus, avoids them as long as he can, clinging to some hope that they'll turn and drive away without a word.  Of course, he's wrong.  "Brendon Boyd Urie!" Audrey says, and it's scolding, reprimanding, not even anger.  Brendon holds in a sigh before standing up to face the girls.  "You cheated on me," she states, "with Ryan."  Brendon almost laughs; it was more like Brendon cheating on Ryan by being with Audrey._

__

_"Not exactly," Brendon replies, and Audrey's glare gets more deadly.  Really, Brendon thinks, this situation could be kinda amusing._

__

_"Would you rather be with him, over me?" She yells, and Brendon's about to make an excuse when the door of the bus opens again.  Ryan's there, and Audrey and Jac turn on him instead of Brendon._

__

_Ryan looks tired, and this is all Brendon can take in for a couple seconds, before Jac's voice cuts through.  Ryan walks past the girls, and to Brendon's side, but not too close.  "I'm leaving," Jac says, and Ryan looks at the ground._

__

_"You don't understand—" Ryan starts._

__

_"No, I don't.  I don't get it.  I don't know why you would rather sleep with your lead singer over your own girlfriend.  I don't know why you turn to him before me.  I don't know why you would go gay for him.  But I know that I don't want any part of this.  So."_

__

_"It's not like that," Ryan says, and Brendon knows the lies too well._

__

_"Brendon?" Audrey questions._

__

_"It's really not," Brendon answers.  "We're just friends."_

__

_"Then explain last night," Audrey demands._

__

_"He—he was having an anxiety attack.  And what am I supposed to do?  Just let him sit and cry?  No, I helped him through it.  That's what I do."  Brendon can feel Ryan's tension increasing next to him, because that wasn't really the best lie.  It was a horrible one, actually, Brendon realized, and it takes all he has to not lace his fingers with Ryan's right on the spot._

__

_Audrey rolls her eyes.  "It's not worth it.  You're not worth it."  She turns around and walks to her car.  Jac follows.  Brendon considers pulling Ryan for a kiss while their ex-girlfriends drive away, just to flare up their irritation.  The look on Ryan's face crushes Brendon._

__

_"Hey, Ryan—" Brendon says when the cars have passed._

__

_"I'm sorry," Ryan says._

__

_Brendon blinks.  "For what?"_

__

_"For all of this.  You aren't mad at me?"_

__

_"No, no way.  Are you—I mean . . . Her. Jac. What's going though your mind right now?" Brendon asks._

__

_"I think I would feel bad for her, about this whole thing, if it wasn't you.  Really, nobody's going to compare to you, Brendon, and I think they've both known that for awhile.  About . . . Us."_

__

_"You're sweet," Brendon says.  "But you do feel bad.  I can see it all over your face.  She's heartbroken, too.  It's okay.  I'd be heartbroken if it was me."_

__

_Ryan reaches for Brendon's hand at the same time Brendon reaches to touch Ryan's face, and they end up in an awkward fumble of hands.  Before even laughing, Ryan pulls Brendon in for a kiss._

__

_Problems don't seem to exist in those seconds._

__

"And like the blade you stain . . . Blade you stain, well, I've been holdin' . . . On—to-night!"  The intakes of breath between Brendon's words were sharp, but shaky.  He couldn't bring himself to stop singing, even though he knew it wasn't helping him.  The song pushed him back in time, and memory was the only place he wanted to be at the moment.

_"If I knew French, I think I would only sing to you in French," Brendon claims, and Ryan doesn't contain his smile._

__

_"Why?" Ryan asks, playfully.  They can see the Eiffel Tower from their hotel room._

__

_"I don't know.  The whole language just seems more—romanticized."_

__

_"Romanticized.  I feel like I wish I'd written every last word of it."  Ryan opens the window of the hotel room.  "For you," he adds._

__

_"Exactly," Brendon laughs.  They fall in a silence together.  It's foggy outside, and the Eiffel Tower sticks out in the silver.  The city looks fragile, as if it was made of paper and the rain that was about to start would destroy every bit of it._

__

_"We're in Paris," Ryan says, and it's with a small frown._

__

_"I know.  I'm homesick, too," Brendon understands, and slides an arm around Ryan's waist.  Ryan puts his fingers in Brendon's hair, loose and still._

__

_"Just—" Ryan closes his eyes. "—imagine that it's raining, pouring.  Pouring hard.  And there's the water, the ocean, right in front of us, where this market street thing is.  And that, the Eiffel Tower, it's the Space Needle."_

__

_"Seattle," Brendon sighs, "seems like home, compared to this.  Good enough."_

Brendon didn't fully allow himself to realize that the burning in his eyes were in fact tears.  He felt worse than he should have when his fingers didn't press hard enough into the keys, to make the noise as loud as it was meant to be played—how Ryan played it, taught it to Brendon.

"What's the worst that I can say?"

_Ryan wants Brendon to spend the night at his apartment when they get back to Las Vegas, Nevada, USA.  Home.  Brendon complies._

__

_They're drained of every last bit of energy they possess, and they wrap themselves conjointly in Ryan's sheets.  Touring is finally over._

__

_"You've shown me the world," Ryan says, and he's drawing lazy patterns on Brendon's stomach with his fingers._

__

_"You've shown me the world," Brendon says back._

__

_"Wouldn't have done it without you."  Ryan's being sincere, serious, genuine, and Brendon doesn't even make any sarcastic comments._

__

_"I need you."_

__

_The words don't hang heavy in the air, and there's no hesitation after that._

__

_"I love you."  Ryan murmurs the words._

__

_"I love you, too."_

__

_Every emotional tie is made between them, every last one, in those moments.  They're everything to each other; it's not sappy, it's honest.  "This is it," Ryan says, and those are the only words to describe it, for now.  More will come._

__

_There's always more from Ryan._

__

Brendon's voice felt unsupported.  Brendon felt unsupported.  "Things are better if I stay—"

_The band always feels like everything is too small, after being forced together in the same place for a certain amount of time.  High pressure, high tension, no space.  That's what it's like, the last few days they spend up in the cabin._

__

_They're playing music, finally, getting past bickering through the morning routines.  It's a new set of lyrics, although the harmonies are still choppy.  Brendon's reading his way through the lyrics, learning them as they're sung.  Ryan suddenly plays an especially shrill note on the guitar, and the whole band immediately goes silent.  They all know what that sound means._

__

_Ryan's staring at Brendon–Brendon can feel it—and he slowly turns around to face Ryan.  "Yes?" Brendon asks, quirking an eyebrow._

__

_"You pronounced it wrong," Ryan accuses.  "It's supposed to be 'eye-ther' not 'ee-ther.'"_

__

_Brendon blinks a few times.  "Okay . . ."_

__

_Ryan turns away.  "From the beginning?" He says, and it sounds more like a demand than a request._

__

_Brendon sings, and he's distracted by Ryan's tone of voice.  Ryan stops the song in the middle again.  "You're flat," he tells Brendon._

__

_"Thanks," Brendon sneers._

__

_"I'm just saying, it would sound better if—"_

__

_"I know, I know.  I'll try again."_

__

_They play it again, and Brendon is focusing on the notes of his voice too much.  He doesn't hit one of the higher notes, but he's determined to keep going—that is, until Ryan stops them, once again._

__

_"That was off."_

__

_"I'm sorry," Brendon grumbles, "that my voice is shitty.  I apologize."_

__

_They're fueling each other's angry fire._

__

_"You can hit that note, can't you?"_

__

_"Yes, I can.  I—"_

__

_"Then do it."_

__

_"I will, if you back off a little bit."_

__

_"Are you going to make it so your mood determines if you sing correctly?"_

__

_"Maybe.  You're the one who says I should be feeling the music, or whatever," Brendon retaliates._

__

_"Just hit the damn notes."_

__

_"Just give me room to breathe."_

__

_Brendon's last words strike like lightning to Ryan._

__

_"Give you space?" Ryan repeats.  "Okay." He nods, harshly, and doesn't speak to Brendon through the rest of practice._

__

_And the conversations between them are minimal, only used when absolutely necessary, throughout the rest of their stay in the cabin._

__

"So long, and goodnight," Brendon sang, and he felt how weird it was to sing the chorus by himself, without Ryan's voice with him.  Lonely.  "So long, and goodnight . . ." Brendon felt like he was falling.  Falling in lonely felt like he was losing another part of Ryan, although all of him had been gone for awhile now.

_After coming down from the cabin, Brendon seeks out Ryan.  He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Ryan, and he's not angry at all anymore._

__

_Brendon emails him, asks him out for dinner, tells him when he'll pick him up.  Ryan gets in Brendon's car, and there's no warm greeting from Brendon, no bright smile.  Brendon licks his lips.  "Listen—" he starts, and they're already driving._

__

_"I want to talk to you," Ryan says, and that's really all that Brendon needed.  Brendon meaningfully brushes his arm against Ryan's in the center of the car, and Ryan accepts the offering by weaving their fingers together.  "I've missed you.  Is that stupid?  Because I guess I could've come to talk to you, but, you know, I didn't want to make you mad."_

__

_Brendon feels hurt in a different way; regret.  "When I said I needed space or whatever, I didn't mean—I just meant with the band.  I'm sorry.  I should've said something sooner."  Brendon glances over at Ryan, who is staring at the ground.  "Are—are you okay?" Brendon asks._

__

_Ryan looks up.  "It didn't feel like it," he says, quietly.  "I—fuck, I didn't want to get all emotional over this—Brendon, we can't have fights like this.  It's messing with the band and whatever we have together and.  I can't.  This is everything to me."_

__

_"Baby, baby, I love you, you know I do," Brendon says._

__

_"I love you, too."_

__

_"Are we okay?" Brendon asks._

__

_Ryan nods.  "If you're ready."_

__

_"I am."_

__

Brendon was glad there was a space between lyrics of the chorus and the second verse, because he needed to clear his voice.  Crying was threatening to take hold of him, and he was determined to not let it happen.

"Came . . . A time . . . When every starfall brought you to tears again . . ."

_They've had a peaceful summer, three months of no fights and free flying romance.  It's a week before Ryan's twenty first birthday when they fight again.  They've been living together, having fun.  That just makes the fight more drastic, more important._

__

_They fight about coming out, going public, confirming their relationship.  Brendon wants to.  He's just lost a girlfriend, and he just wants the secrets to end._

__

_After a little under an hour of shouting, Ryan walks out of the apartment.  Brendon doesn't know where he goes, but he takes his wallet and phone._

__

_That night, Ryan doesn't come home or even call Brendon, and Brendon doesn't reach out to Ryan, either.  The silence lasts for a solid five days, which is enough time to get Brendon more than a little worried.  Ryan finally calls, and Brendon scrambles to answer his phone.  Instead of, "Hello?", Brendon answers his phone with, "Ryan?" in a small and hopeful voice._

__

_"Brendon," Ryan responds. "Hi."_

__

_"Hi."  Brendon is about to pour out all of his questions: 'Where are you? Are you okay? Are you still mad at me? When are you coming home?  Are you coming home at all?'  But he remains silent, and Ryan is hesitant to open his mouth again._

__

_"Um . . . How are you?" Ryan asks._

__

_"I'm alright.  How—how are you?"_

__

_"I miss you," Ryan says._

__

_Brendon breaks.  "Where are you?"_

__

_"I'm in New York."_

__

_"New York?  What are you doing in New York?" Brendon exclaims, and it's frantic._

__

_"I'm with Keltie.  Pete's out here, too, and I've been visiting with him."_

__

_"Oh."  Brendon searches for the words, the right questions to ask.  "What are you doing for your birthday?"_

__

_Ryan's silent; Brendon can faintly hear him breathing.  "Pete's throwing a party, at his bar."_

__

_Brendon feels like he's been punched in the chest.  "That'll be fun." His voice is bitter._

__

_"Brendon, can I come home?  I can't fucking—I know what you're like.  You're not pissed anymore, and I don't know—maybe you're done with me, but I can't live with this," Ryan spilled._

__

_Mind reeling with things he wants to say, Brendon settles for a stumbling, "Yes, come home.  I mean, don't cancel on Pete, and don't make Keltie suspicious."_

__

_"You just want me to grab my stuff, don't you?" Ryan says.  A string of curses come out of him._

__

_Brendon is in a daze, and he doesn't realize how emotionless he sounds.  He's hardly comprehending that Ryan's actually called, much less that Ryan wants to come back to him.  "Get your stuff?  No, why . . . Oh, Ryan, shit.  You . . ."_

__

_"What—"_

__

_He's snapping out of it.  "Baby, get your ass back here the second that damn party is over, okay?  I've been so fucking worried.  I need you."  There's no filter in his words anymore._

__

_Ryan lets out a relieved laugh, because there's Brendon, there's his Brendon, the bundle of emotions pouring out of him.  "I'll be there, B, I'll fly out in the middle of night to see you."_

__

_"I—I didn't do anything for your birthday," Brendon stutters._

__

_"I don't care, really, I don't," Ryan says._

__

_At this point, Brendon just wants to hug Ryan, kiss him, hold him tightly.  The couple thousand miles between them isn't helping.  His thoughts race with the things Ryan likes, and he hastily decides, "I'm going to Seattle, early. Fuck it. Come see me there, after Pete's party. We can be there a few days before the show. We'll celebrate."_

__

_"You know me so well."_

__

Brendon was going to cry more tears than all the raindrops that had ever fallen in Seattle; he already knew.  "We are . . . The very hurt . . . You . . . Sold . . ."

_Writing, or at least trying to write, is a two hour disaster for Brendon.  He's alone with a piano, and nobody has dared to bother him.  He's trying to work out a new melody, and can't figure it out.  With a frustrated groan, he puts his face in his hands, elbows crashing into the piano keys._

__

_"My love, hasn't anyone ever told you not to pound on the keys?"_

__

_Brendon jumps, hitting his knee on the underside of the piano.  A small noise escapes the back of his throat, more annoyed than pained.  Ryan's arms slip around his chest, and he stops moving.  "You scared me," Brendon mumbles.  He's far more soothed, just by Ryan's presence and comforting touch._

__

_"I was listening to you," Ryan says._

__

_"Yeah?"_

__

_"Try it in C Major," Ryan suggests, and Brendon does it._

__

_"I don't like it," Brendon says._

"And what's the worst you take?" Brendon was rushing.  He could imagine Ryan's touch to the point of feeling it.

_"You two are dysfunctional," Jon says, after Ryan has stormed out of the recording studio because of another fight with Brendon.  Spencer followed Ryan._

__

_"Fuck you," Brendon pointedly snapped at Jon.  His fury with Ryan was still bubbling over, and he didn't want to take it out on Jon, not really.  Yet the single comment from Jon is enough to start pushing things._

__

_Spencer walks back in the room, and, upon observing the tense silence, packs up his things and leaves again without a word.  Brendon does the same._

__

_The day in the studio is over.  They're not going to get anything done without Ryan._

__

"From every heart you break?"  Brendon wished he could be living in a happy memory.

_It's in Spencer's hand, and Brendon is hesitant to take it.  "Ryan said he wrote it for you," Spencer explains.  Brendon doesn't want to know.  The thought makes him feel sick._

__

_He takes the sheet of paper anyway.  And he knows what it is, what it's going to be about the second he sees the title._

__

_" Northern Downpour"_

__

_Every line of the song makes Brendon's sorrowful side flare up a bit more._

__

_Closer to the bottom of the page, bright yellow highlighter covers the lyrics, "I know the world's a broken bone/But melt your headaches/Call it home"_

__

_Brendon's never stopped loving Ryan, never doubted it, not for a second._

__

"And like the blade you stain—"

_Things are at somewhat of a standstill in Ryan and Brendon's relationship, but it's good.  They're at a point where they aren't fighting, because they've recently made up for their last fight._

__

_It's the last day for the filming of the 'Nine in the Afternoon' video.  Everyone else is distracted with other details around the set, while Ryan and Brendon have a corner and the white, grand piano to themselves.  Ryan's watching Brendon actually play the song for the first time that day.  Ryan's humming along to the lyrics, but neither of them are trying too hard._

__

_When the song is over, Brendon smiles up at Ryan.  "It's so bright in here.  I think—" he took Ryan's hand and pulled him down to sit on the piano bench, "—that we need some . . . Emo."_

__

_Ryan smiles, knowingly.  They've played the song occasionally throughout the course of the years they've been together; a ritual, of sorts._

__

_They sang, as one, "Long ago, just like a hearse—"_

"—Well, I've been holdin' . . . On . . . Tonight—" Brendon's voice finally cracked when he tried to hold out the last note.  He didn't try to recover his voice.  He closed his eyes and allowed his hands to make the piano play the song.

_Ryan wants to sing it.  It's a last minute thing, no warning.  Brendon's been planning on singing 'Mad As Rabbits,' with Ryan doing backing vocals.  They all know that they haven't practiced it, so really, Ryan does have a right to say this, but Brendon thinks Ryan should have given him some warning.  Brendon had discussed every song with Ryan, who would sing, and they'd always agreed._

__

_This is new._

__

_"So, um, I'm singing this one," Ryan announces.  When Brendon doesn't say anything, there's a pause as the words sink in._

__

_"What about Brendon?" Spencer says._

__

_The concept of what Ryan said is working its way into Brendon's thoughts, and it's overwhelming with anger.  Hurt.  Confusion.  Nothing new, not when it comes to fighting with Ryan.  Brendon knows that he won't be able to avoid a fight with this one._

__

_Ryan doesn't answer Spencer's question, which worsens the situation for Brendon._

__

_"Brendon, did you know?" Spencer asks.  Brendon shakes his head, but it's not in response to Spencer.  It's a vague, shocked gesture, and his head turns in the direction of Ryan.  Brendon's eyes never fully land on Ryan._

__

_"Why . . .?" Brendon says.  His voice sounds frail._

__

_"Is it a problem?" Ryan replies.  Brendon snaps his mouth closed.  He steps away from the microphone and wanders to the stools in the front of the room, where he sits down.  The debate between Jon and Spencer and Ryan is all foggy to Brendon, and he only picks up a few fragments._

__

_"It's my song . . . You should've told him . . . He's the lead singer . . . He's your lead singer . . ."  Brendon's thoughts are more overpowering.  He wonders how long Ryan knew about this, why he would spring it on the band now, and, most importantly, what Brendon has done wrong, to make Ryan want to sing.  This makes Brendon think that Ryan doesn't trust Brendon with the lyrics anymore, Ryan doesn't want Brendon pouring his heart and soul into lyrics that aren't his own.  Brendon thinks that maybe he wasn't singing strong enough for Ryan, but that doesn't seem right._

__

_The whole scenario just seems . . . off, to Brendon.  "Hey!" Someone says, and it's loud enough to bring Brendon out of his train of thought._

__

_"What do you think?" Jon asks._

__

_"I don't get it," Brendon says._

__

_"Ryan doesn't want you to sing this set of lyrics," Spencer says, bitterly._

__

_"Why?" He asks Ryan for the second time, except now it's more demanding._

__

_"I wrote these words, and I should be able to sing them."_

__

_"You should've told me!  This has been written for awhile now, and I sing!"_

__

_"And I want to sing this," Ryan says, voice low.  It's dangerous._

__

_"What, would I not be good enough?" Even more dangerous._

__

_"That's not what this is about."_

__

_"Just not good enough for your lyrics."_

__

_"I should be able to sing the things I write."_

__

_Brendon closes his eyes.  He’s trying to prevent himself from completely breaking down. "If you want to kick me out of the band, then that's your problem."_

__

_"Ryan, you can't fire Brendon,” Spencer brings forward.  There’s an edge in his voice that Brendon isn’t sure he’s heard before._

__

_“I know that,” Ryan says.  “I don’t really know why you would think I’d want to do that, but . . .”_

__

_“Because you—you don’t trust me with your lyrics anymore, that’s what you’re saying!” Brendon says._

__

_“You’re over-reacting.  It’s just a song.  One song.”_

__

_“It’s never ‘just a song.’”_

__

_“That’s not what this is about.”_

__

_Brendon purses his lips.  “What am I doing wrong?”_

__

_“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says, but he’s looking directly at Ryan._

__

_Something shuts down inside of Brendon, and he gives up.  “Sing it, then.”_

__

_Ryan is reluctant to do so, but eventually he starts singing.  Brendon, for some unknown reason, is purposefully trying not to listen.  “Just sing it with him,” Jon says, after Ryan has finished._

__

_Brendon looks up; he and Ryan exchange an awkward stare for a few seconds.  “Okay,” Brendon says quietly._

__

_“Sounds better that way,” Spencer says afterwards._

__

“What’s the worst that I can say?”  Brendon couldn’t open his eyes, because when he did, tears would spill over.  He wasn’t ready to start crying yet, but he couldn’t stop himself.

_The fights that happen within the band are more between Ryan and Spencer now, and Brendon tries to stay out of it as much as he can.  With only one song left to record on the album, Brendon isn’t making many of the decisions; he lets the outcome of Spencer and Ryan’s fights dictate what happens.  If they tell him to sing, then he sings, and if they say otherwise, he does that as well._

__

_But Brendon isn’t accustomed to—not made for–staying quiet._

__

_He hasn’t said a word to Ryan outside of the studio since they’ve started practicing ‘Mad As Rabbits.’  Ryan hasn’t reached out to Brendon, either._

__

_It’s been three weeks of this, and Brendon wonders what it’s going to be to make him or Ryan snap out of it.  Snap at each other.  Brendon can’t stand the silence, but he doesn’t know what he should say._

“Things are better if I stay . . .”  Brendon had unknowingly increased his volume at this point.

_'Pretty. Odd.' was released three days ago.  Some part of Brendon feels twisted for agreeing with Ryan's urges to check the internet at every possible moment, to see the record sales and the reviews.  Brendon's tense when he sees that the sales are down, that the reviews aren't great, that the fans are angry about how it sounds._

__

_“Why are they so mad?” Brendon asks, looking over Ryan’s shoulder at the laptop screen._

__

_“Some of the fans are mad because I sang, some are mad because you wrote.  Then some just hate it in general, because it’s not exactly how our other music sounds.”  There’s no disappointment in his voice, but Brendon knows that Ryan is good at hiding things._

__

_“What are we gonna do about it?” Brendon says, in barely more than a whisper._

__

_“I mean, this doesn’t really change any of our plans.  We knew everything would be different, this time around.”_

__

_“Yeah,” Brendon whispers.  Ryan can only hear it because Brendon is standing right behind him, and they are crowded around a single laptop.  It’s a different, more emotional tone.  This is the most Brendon’s spoken to Ryan in over a month, the first time he’s been back at Ryan’s house in even longer than that._

__

_He lied to Ryan, saying that his internet wasn't working, just to be there with Ryan when he saw the impact of the album.  Ryan had let him in the house without question.  Brendon's relieved._

__

_Ryan's sitting in front of Brendon, Brendon's standing behind him, looking over Ryan's shoulder at the laptop screen.  Brendon's so very tempted to slip his arms around Ryan's torso, place kisses on Ryan's neck, but he knows that's too much too soon, after barely speaking to Ryan for weeks._

__

_"If they don't like this, then they won't like any of my other writing, either," Ryan shrugs._

__

_"You didn't tell me that you've been writing," Brendon says, and bites his tongue for saying that.  Ryan hasn't told Brendon anything, and it's not like Ryan even wants Brendon to sing anything of his anymore.  Or at least that's Brendon's state of mind._

__

_"Well, I guess it's not anything I'm serious about.  Just . . . Fun things."_

__

_Brendon's chest hurts.  "I screwed up your band, Ryan."_

__

_"Brendon—" Ryan turns around in his chair._

__

_"I should've just let you sing the whole thing, all that you wrote, then everyone would be happy."_

__

_"Hey, no.  I—you're a better singer than I am.  It's always been that way.  That's why I wanted you to sing."_

__

_This is Brendon snapping, but it's internally.  He's not lashing out at Ryan._

__

_"You're a better writer.  You should've written the whole thing."_

__

_"No.  We've got to have a balance.  We're a band."_

__

_"I know that.  It's just—our balance has always been you writing and me singing and I feel like things are getting mixed up," Brendon says._

__

_Ryan gives him a sad smile and says, "Things can change."_

__

_Brendon looks down.  "They already have."_

__

_"Brendon—" Ryan stands up and put his hand to Brendon's face, gently, long fingers stretching the expanse of Brendon's cheek. "—sweetheart."_

__

_"Stop.  If you don't mean any of this, which I don't think you do, then stop, okay?"_

__

_"You're everything to me."_

__

_"But I'm still not enough."_

__

_"Yes you are," Ryan says._

__

_Brendon still feels things are unanswered, but he doesn't ask Ryan anything—'Then why are you still with Keltie?  Why have you pushed yourself so far away from me? Do you miss me?'  He doesn't ask because Ryan is pressing a kiss to his frowning lips.  Brendon allows it to happen, kisses back.  He's been worried he'd never get this again._

__

_Ryan holds both of Brendon's hands, and their foreheads are resting against each others'.  "You can talk to me about anything, whenever you want to.  I'm always right here," Ryan whispers._

__

_"I don't want to talk about anything," Brendon says, and it's sounds ecstatic, loving, contrary to the dark tone in his mind.  He tilts his head up and connects his lips with Ryan's in another kiss.  He throws his arms around Ryan's waist and holds him there.  He's in love with Ryan, hopeless, and he's got Ryan, or at least part of him._

          "So long, and good ni—" Brendon gasped, choking back a sob.  "S-so long, and good ni-ight—"

          _It's small things that make Brendon feel like he's losing Ryan, at first.  When they start touring, Ryan doesn't invite Brendon to his bunk like he has before.  Brendon doesn't specifically comment on this, but asks Ryan, "Are you doing okay?" while pointlessly touching Ryan's hair._

__

_Ryan replies with the smallest of smiles.  "Yeah."  Brendon stares at him with an expectant look, which Ryan knows as his 'puppy eyes,' look, but Ryan doesn't react like he normally does.  Brendon's heart sinks, just a little.  "Yeah . . ." Ryan repeats.  He presses his lips to Brendon's temple.  "We should get some sleep," he says._

__

_It's only nine thirty at night._

__

         "And if you carry on this way—" Brendon was at least working on recovering.  "—things are better if I stay . . ."

       _"Brendon?" Ryan asks, peering into the bunks of the tour bus.  They have an off day, and when Brendon woke up that morning, he got his breakfast and locked himself back in the bunks with the food.  He hasn't come out for an hour now._

__

_There's a rustling of paper when Brendon crawls out of bed.  "Hey," he says, staying all the way across the room from Ryan._

__

_"Good morning.  Are you okay?"_

__

_"Yeah, yeah, I was just writing.  I had a dream about it, and I've got to at least try to get it out, you know?"_

__

_"Okay.  I'll leave you alone if you're busy, then," Ryan says, moving to the door._

__

_"Not really," Brendon says hastily.  He doesn't want Ryan to walk away.  They stare at each other uncomfortably for a moment._

__

_"I wanted to talk to you," Ryan finally says._

__

_Brendon nods.  "Did you want to—" he reaches for the door._

__

_"No.  Just you," Ryan cuts in._

__

_"Alright."_

__

_Brendon clears his bunk off by putting his various papers on his pillow.  They sit down together, Brendon feeling more nervous than he has in years around Ryan._

__

_"I love you.  More than anything in the world," Ryan says.  Brendon feels like his blood's frozen in his veins._

__

_"I love you too," Brendon says, but he can't look up at Ryan._

__

_"I—you know we're not handling this the right way."  Ryan sounds calm, but Brendon thinks he could punch Ryan.  Brendon only sighs in agreement.  "Can I ask what you think we should do?"_

__

_"I don't know," Brendon whimpers in truth._

__

_"I love you.  Really, I do."  Ryan touches Brendon's neck._

__

_It's when the words, "Don't touch me," slip from Brendon's lips that something else snaps.  "Not when you're with her."_

__

_Brendon feels worse when Ryan winces and stands up.  "Then maybe we should take a break, you and I," Ryan suggests._

__

_"A break?"_

__

_"Just, like, I'm not mad at you or anything, but I don't feel like we get each other anymore."_

__

_No, they don't 'get' each other, Brendon thinks.  "You have a girlfriend, Ryan.  And it's serious."_

__

_"But it's not . . . It's not like this.  With her, it's—it's not like with you."_

__

_Ryan's being too vague for Brendon's temporarily scattered brain.  "A break," Brendon suddenly agrees._

__

_"Alright?"_

__

_"Yeah, I'll see you guys later," Brendon says, and pulls the curtain of his bunk shut too fast._

__

_Spencer, later, brings Brendon food without saying a word, but he gives Brendon a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before leaving the bunks again._

__

        "So long, and goodnight—" Brendon sang, sobbed, "—so long, and goodnight—"  He was crying uncontrollably, loud with the music.  Ryan would've dismissed it like it was nothing if he saw the whole scene in front of him, and Brendon weeped.

           _Jealousy is a bunch of bullshit Brendon would like to say he refuses to feel; he would like to say.  Yet when he sees Ryan with Keltie, the tables turn quite a bit._

__

_They do stuff together a lot, of course they do, they're boyfriend and girlfriend.  Brendon, selfishly, almost wishes that Ryan would at least tone down the romantic gestures while all three were in the same room.  They're basically claiming the lounge for a couple hours as their own when Brendon walks in to see them watching a movie, Ryan's hand splayed over her thigh.  Brendon turns around and leaves before he can catch Ryan's innocent stare._

__

_The band is on tour, and Keltie's not staying with them the whole time, but she flies out to see Ryan every other week.  Ryan tends to make sure that he and Keltie are together nonstop whenever she is there.  Brendon tries to avoid them, tries to escape back to the bus every night after shows when they decide to make out backstage._

__

_A few times, he sees them holding hands, Keltie slowly coaxing a smile back on Ryan's worried face.  Brendon wants to be the one to be there with him, easing Ryan's stress.  The fingers laced through Keltie's belong on Brendon's skin instead.  He's denying his own heartbreak, telling himself that Ryan is sure to come back to him, Ryan still loves him.  So he's hopeful, not miserable._

__

          "Can . . . you, hear me . . .?"

           _"Brendon, that's really good.  All of your stuff's been really good lately," Spencer tells him after he's presented a new song he wrote._

__

_"Thanks, Spencer."  He really wants to ask if Spencer thinks Ryan would like it, if they could use it as a starting point for another album.  Only a starting point, because as far as Brendon knows, Ryan hasn't written anything since they've been on tour.  Brendon is guilty for thinking that maybe Keltie is distracting him from writing, but he would never say so.  He has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he thinks about talking to Ryan about their musical careers, because they already have so many other problems to sort out._

__

_Brendon doesn't say anything about it to Spencer either.  They're the only two members of the band who are on the bus—Jon's out with his girlfriend, and so is Ryan, to Brendon's dismay._

__

_"I wouldn't show anything to Ryan right now, if I were you," Spencer says, voicing Brendon's thoughts._

__

_"You'd know better than I would," Brendon mutters._

__

         "Are . . . you, near me?"  Brendon's voice was shaking, trying to hold back sobs but growing increasingly unsuccessful.

          _It's late for Ryan, almost ten thirty, when he finally comes back to the bus.  Spencer's microwaving some frozen pasta in the kitchen unit, and Brendon's texting Patrick Stump (about nothing at all, really) around the corner.  Ryan thinks that Brendon's already gone to bed, but Brendon can hear every word of Ryan's and Spencer's conversation._

__

_"Hey, Spencer, can I talk to you about something?" Ryan asks.  Brendon freezes, staring absently at the wall in front of him._

__

_"Yeah, of course," Spencer responds._

__

_"Um—things are getting more serious with me and Keltie, like our relationship . . ."_

__

_"Yeah, uh huh."_

__

_"Well, so, I—I just bought a ring.  An—an engagement ring."_

__

_Brendon suddenly can't breathe._

__

_"What?  Ryan, what the FUCK?"_

__

_"Spencer, don't—don't you like Keltie? I—I thought y—"_

__

_"Keltie's fine, that's not the problem!  It's—" Spencer's voice dropped, and Brendon couldn't hear him anymore.  Brendon couldn't take it.  He walks to the bunks, through the kitchen.  He flips Ryan off without looking back._

__

_His heart is racing as he lays down, his eyes closed.  His jaw is clenched.  The door of the bunks bursts open.  "Brendon—" it's clearly Ryan, although his voice lacks all gentleness._

__

_"Go away," Brendon groans, turning his back to Ryan._

__

_Ryan reaches out to lightly touch Brendon's back.  "I didn't want—"_

__

_Brendon jumps away from the touch and out of the bunk, backing Ryan up.  "Leave me alone.  That's what you want, isn't it?  For me to be alone, leave me.  Because it's all about what you want, you make the decisions.  So do it, Ryan, go marry her and forget all of this ever happened.  Fuck off!"_

__

_In the space of time that follows, they can hear Spencer's voice saying, "No! Leave them alone, let them work things out."_

__

_"I didn't want to tell you like this—" Ryan hissed, trying to keep his voice down._

__

_"Fuck that.  It doesn't matter how you wanted to tell me.  I'd have found out either way."  Brendon faltered and rubbed his eyes.  "I can't believe you didn't tell me!  This whole time you've only been in love with her!  Did this mean anything to you? What we had, between us—?"_

__

_"BRENDON!  Did you think I was just going to be this blunt—"_

__

_"Yes, I did.  Because you don't tell me anything anymore!"_

__

_"You're not too open with me, either!  You've shut yourself out, you never talk to me, and I've realized that I fell in love with someone else!"  Brendon doesn't have a retaliation, because maybe Ryan is right.  "We said we were taking a break, you could've at least acted somewhat normal, instead of running away whenever you saw me."_

__

_"You should've reached out!  I can't hold this relationship up on my own.  It's not a relationship," Brendon says._

__

_"It hasn't been a 'relationship' for awhile.  It's done."_

__

_The silence in the air holds a suffocating ring before Brendon says, "Then get the fuck out of here.  There's no use trying to save—" He stops talking, his voice had been trailing quieter and quieter.  Contradictory to what he said, Brendon moves past Ryan and out of the bunks.  Spencer and Jon stare at him as he passes, and Spencer follows him outside._

__

_"I'm not gonna talk about it right now," Brendon mutters, but Spencer stays by his side._

__

        "Pre-tend . . . To leave, and then . . . We'll meet again—when—both—our—cars—collide!"

         _Ryan's heartbroken after Keltie breaks up with him.  Brendon kind of just looks at Ryan with pity, although he doesn't know the details.  He's been keeping his distance.  "He deserves it, you know," Spencer tells Brendon.  They're aimlessly wandering the back aisles of a gas station._

__

_"Has he told you what happened?  Tell me," Brendon demands.  His eyes are pleading with Spencer._

__

_Spencer nods.  "He proposed—" Brendon winced.  "—and she said yes."  Brendon quirked an eyebrow.  "But, then, I guess she thought that Ryan was coming back too soon after proposing, like coming back to hang out with us, and that's stupid, because we're his band.  But she thought he was in a rush or something and she just flipped out and said he was cheating on her."_

__

_Brendon gulps.  "Cheating on her?  With who?"_

__

_"With you.  She knew about it."_

__

_Brendon looks frantic.  "Ryan already hates me, now he's going to actually murder me."_

__

_Spencer smiles grimly.  "It's not your fault.  Like I said, he deserves it."_

__

      "What's the worst that I can say?  Things are better if I stay . . . So long, and goodnight!  So long and goodnight!"  Brendon was loudly sobbing the lyrics.

_“I’m here to relay a message from Ryan.  Well, and me too,” Jon announces, walking back into the tour bus where Brendon was alone.  Brendon looks up from the TV to see Jon wearing his all too bright smile._

__

_Nothing that has to do with Ryan seems smile-worthy to Brendon at the moment._

__

_“What,” Brendon snaps, sharper than he intends.  He’s not particularly upset with Jon._

__

_Jon’s face falls slightly before he speaks again.  He clears his throat.  “Is Spencer around?”_

__

_“Is that it?” Brendon asks.  “He went to the store.”_

__

_“No.  I’m gonna wait until he gets back,” Jon says, and leaves._

__

_When Spencer returns, it’s with both Ryan and Jon.  The four sit at the table.  Ryan and Brendon make a peaceful but dead eye contact.  “Look, you guys, if you want us to make up right now—” Brendon starts._

__

_“No,” Ryan interrupts.  “That’s not what we need to talk to you about.”_

__

_Brendon sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.  He looks to Spencer, who shrugs, oblivious._

__

_“Jon?” Ryan asks._

__

_“I’m moving in with Ryan,” Jon says.  Good luck with that, Brendon thinks._

__

_“Why?” Spencer says._

__

_“We—we’re starting a new band together,” Jon explains._

__

_“With some other friends,” Ryan adds._

__

_Spencer bites his lip.  “Does that mean—”_

__

_“We’re leaving Panic,” Ryan says._

__

_Brendon gasps, subtle and quiet.  “Both of you?” Brendon says._

__

_Ryan nods.   Brendon blames himself, it’s his fault.  He’s split up his own band because he didn’t handle things correctly with Ryan.  Fuck fuck fuck.  “I’m sorry,” Brendon says, directly to Spencer.  Brendon gets up and walks away, because he can’t think properly if he has Ryan intensely staring at him from across the table._

__

_It doesn’t matter, the attempted escape from Ryan, because Ryan follows Brendon outside the tour bus.  Brendon wants to yell and cry and even make amends with Ryan.  "What?" He snaps, instead._

__

_"It's not your fault," Ryan begins.  "That I'm leaving."_

__

_"You don't want to be in a relationship with me and you don't want to be in a band with me, so I'll be damned if that's my fault."_

__

_"Just.  If you really don't care, then don't make this hard for Spencer.  That's it," Ryan says._

__

_"Go fucking talk to Spencer, then, if this isn't about me," Brendon demands._

__

_Ryan pauses for a moment.  "Fine!" He says, and turns away from Brendon.  Brendon's slightly confused and regretting being so short with Ryan._

__

_He stands outside until Spencer opens the door.  "Brendon?  Come inside," Spencer says.  Brendon slowly turns around and shuffles his feet back to Spencer.  "It's more our tour bus than theirs now," Spencer mutters as Brendon walks with him._

__

_Brendon only nods._

__

_"Actually," Spencer says, "stay out here with me.  I want to talk to you."  Brendon controls his temper._

__

_"Okay."_

__

_"What did Ryan say?" Spencer asks._

__

_"He said that it wasn't my fault that he's leaving—but it is—and he said to try and not make things hard for you."  Brendon gulps.  "What did he say to you?"_

__

_"Well, he said that you're being melodramatic.  He thinks you're really mad about this."_

__

_"I am," Brendon grumbles._

__

_Spencer looks at him, eyebrows knitted in concern.  "You can't let him—both of them—see that, okay?  You're alright."_

__

_Brendon nods.  "Okay."  He looks weary, tired, exhausted from holding in tears or so long.  He continues to do so._

__

      "And if you carry on this way—!" Brendon shouted,  voice thick with tears.

       _Ryan and Spencer have started fighting, and Brendon cowers away from it, especially when he heard his own name being thrown around.  Spencer's cold, icy anger seeps through to everyone on the bus.  Ryan's bracelets and several layers of thin clothing seem to be weighing him down, shoulders slumped over whatever he's working on.  Jon gets his food and coffee with a only a half hearted attempt at a smile to his bandmates.  Brendon remains curled up on the couch, although he debates with himself several times about getting a beer or smoking some weed.  Spencer flops down on the couch beside him, and Brendon only glances up from his cell phone for a fraction of a second._

__

_"Just keep it together for a few more shows, Brendon," Spencer says, quietly, so only Brendon can hear him._

__

_"I know.  I won't snap if he doesn't."_

__

_"Brendon—"_

__

_"We'll be fine."_

__

_"Try not to seem too distant from each other onstage.  Stay as close as you normally do, and if he gets mad, then he's an idiot."_

__

_"Okay," Brendon agrees._

__

_“They still haven’t decided when they want to announce it to the fans,” Spencer says.  Brendon’s stomach dropped._

__

_It all just became a little more real, what was happening.  Ryan and Jon were going to leave.  They wouldn’t be spending every waking moment with each other anymore, wouldn’t be doing shows together anymore, wouldn’t be making music as a band.  He didn’t let it show on his face, acted like it didn’t phase him._

__

_“We’ve got to finish these shows,” is all Brendon says._

__

       "Things are better if I stay!"

        _Brendon thinks a lot about how he would never take Ryan back, even if the opportunity presented itself.  Not after what Ryan has said.  Brendon will continue arguing with Ryan whenever they must speak.  He wouldn't take Ryan back._

__

_He thinks about the fight they would have if they ever tried to make up.  Brendon would hold all of it against Ryan—everything with Keltie and some of the hurtful things they've thrown at each other.  Brendon wouldn't fall for Ryan's apologies, he wouldn't cry, he wouldn't let Ryan comfort him._

__

_He also thinks about how it feels to not be with Ryan.  To not keep Ryan warm at night, not have Ryan by his side at all times, not have Ryan to get him through everything.  Brendon isn't met with a discreet smile from across the room when he looks at Ryan._

__

_And he misses it._

__

_So, yeah, maybe.  Maybe he would take Ryan back.  Maybe he would accept Ryan back into his life.  Yet he isn't going to try and win Ryan's heart again.  It's too late for that.  Perhaps, Brendon decides, it always has been._

        "So long, and goodnight—" Brendon sang.

        "Brendon," Spencer said.

         The music suddenly stopped and Brendon sucked in a sob.  He looked up at Spencer, who was standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

          "Brendon," Spencer repeated.  Brendon put his elbows on the keys, producing an ugly sound, and buried his face in his palms.  His shoulders started shaking with sobs.  Hesitantly, Spencer sat next to Brendon on the piano bench.  Brendon didn't hear it; he was gone, thinking that the only thing that could make any of this better would be to have Ryan's arms around him, but that was contradictory, because Ryan was the one Brendon was crying over.  "Hey, you're gonna be alright," Spencer said.  Brendon looked up—Spencer's burdened blue eyes casting down on Brendon's flushed, tear-streaked face.

           Spencer gently closed the lid of the piano.  "This is bad for you, don't you know?" Spencer asked.  Brendon nodded, rested his forehead against Spencer's arm, and cried into Spencer's shoulder.

           "It's not like anything's going to change it," Brendon murmured.  Spencer didn't need elaboration.

           "Listen," Spencer said, "he loved you.  He did—"

           "No—"

           "Ryan was in love with you, okay?  And you were in love with him.  But you aren't in love with him anymore.  You're not," Spencer said, but there was a hint of insecurity in his voice.

            "Yes I am.  I still love him," Brendon said.  "But he doesn't love me anymore."

           "He doesn't love me anymore, either," Spencer admitted.

            "What?"

           "He was my best friend, childhood friends.  I'm not talking to him," Spencer whispered.

            "I—it's my fault.  You should be leaving with them to start over and have a new band because that's how it all started—"

            "No, B, no.  It's different now.  It's—" Spencer shook his head.  "—it's better that he's leaving.  Both of them.  But you're not alone."

            "Don't you miss him?  I miss him."

           "Yeah.  I do.  And that's just how it is right now.  We might always miss them.  But there's nothing left," Spencer sighed.

            The ache inside Brendon subsided slightly.

           

             _So long and goodnight._

     

**  
  
  
**


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